


Conversations With Dead Men

by Hopetohell



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: All Dialogue, Experimental Style, Mild Gore, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28591326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell
Summary: Walker’s cleaning crew have never met him, but they know his work. And they’re worried about him.
Kudos: 2





	Conversations With Dead Men

Walker and his cleaning crew have never met, but they know him. They know his work; they can read his mood in the patterns of gore on the ceiling. So when they’re summoned to the Grand Palais, they’re surprised, to say the least.

_This isn’t like him._

_Is he okay? Should we send him some soup? A fruit basket?_

_~*~*~*~*~*~_

_It’s weird, you know, but I kinda miss him. When do you think he’s coming back?_

_It’s been almost a year. I don’t think he is coming back. Besides—_

_What?_

_I heard something, about that Paris job. About what happened. C’mere._

_Are you fucking serious? What? No goddamn way. Not him._

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_That thing in Kashmir, that was him, wasn’t it? Dave was on cleanup, and he said—_

_I know what he said. Dave’s full of shit._

_No, listen. Listen. What if— he said they didn’t—_

_Oh Jesus Christ. Don’t start this._

_He said they didn’t find a body. Not even part of one._

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_Hey. Come look at this._

_What? Come on, we’re in a hurry here. Christ, what a mess._

_Look. Look at that. The spray pattern— it’s gotta be._

_Lemme see. Move. Well, fuck me sideways, you’re right. It’s him. I’d know that work anywhere._

_Do you think they know? Back at headquarters?_

_Man, I dunno. I don’t think any of them have ever actually seen this shit. But look at that. He’s feeling good._

_Good, sure. But look at that. Look how far it got. And the teeth. Fuck. What’s he doing?_

_Listen. You remember Copenhagen? Back in ‘11? After— well, you know. It’s like that._

_Oh Jesus. You don’t think…_

_I do. I think he’s back, and I think he’s hunting._

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_Look, I’m telling you. Right before we got the call. I swear I saw him._

_What makes you so sure? No one’s seen him. Not since Kashmir. Hell, headquarters doesn’t even believe he’s alive._

_I’m telling you. Fuck, listen, it was just for a second, but. You’ve seen the pictures, right? Big guy, looks like he could fight a Buick and win?_

_Yeah._

_Well, I saw him going around the corner, I swear to god. And his face— it was— it was bad. But damn if he wasn’t walking like he had the biggest dick in town. And then we got the call. And like—_

_Yeah. I know. He’s going after agency guys. And this is— fuck. This is something personal. I’ve never seen him leave them in so many pieces before._

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_Listen. So I was talking to Dave again last night and he says—_

_The fuck have I told you about Dave? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about._

_—he says his crew found Benji Dunn. You know, the tech guy? Yeah. Anyway he says they found him in a suitcase on the metro last week._

_Jesus._

_Yeah. He said it was super clean, too. Not like the others. But there was some kinda weird remote in with him. Dave said the guys from upstairs grabbed it before he could get a look._

_The fuck?_

_You know those IMF guys. Real big on their toys. What do you think it was?_

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_Okay, so listen. You remember that thing I was telling you about the other day? That weird thing they found in with Dunn?_

_Yeah, you said it was a remote. What about it?_

_Well, I was taking those teeth up to forensics and I heard them talking about it. Some kind of garage door opener, if you can believe it. And what they found—_

_Dude. Spit it out. This stain’s gonna set._

_Blood. Like, a lot of blood. Sounds like it was a fucking abbatoir. Guess that’s why Dunn was so damn clean, no blood left in him. Poor fuck._

_How do you know it was his? Did he—_

_No, nothing like that. But there was this box with a fingertip in it. Just, like, the last joint. And it matched Dunn’s prints._

_Listen, I don’t think this one is him. I know you said you saw him, but. How long have we been doing this? I’ve never seen him do something like that, not even after ‘11. And that was bad. Like, scary bad._

_You don’t think—_

_Listen. I don’t know what to think. Upstairs says he’s dead, but we’re still getting called for jobs that are just like before. And then you see him, and this thing with Dunn happens right after. And why the hell leave the remote with the body, like that room was meant to be found? I don’t like it. It feels like a game, but nobody will tell us the rules._

_So what do we do?_

_Our fuckin job, that’s what. Keep your head down and your ears open, alright?_

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_Ok so listen. Fuck, listen. There was another weird one. At the Pines. And guess what?_

_Dude. Just fucking tell me._

_They got him on camera, clear as day. Right on the security feed, only— promise this stays between us?_

_Yeah. Sure. Promise. Just spit it out already._

_His face, man. Just like the pictures. And—_

_Shit. Wait. Hang on. You said when you saw him, his face was all messed up, right?_

_Exactly. I swear, when I saw him his face was melted or something. But this was just like his file photo and I don’t think plastic surgery can do that. Not that fast, for fuckin sure._

_So what are you saying?_

_I’m saying it’s him, and it’s not him. How is that possible?_

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_Masks?_

_Masks._

_You’re out of your goddamn mind._

_Dave said—_

_Fuck, fine, what did Dave say?_

_He says there’s this tech, right? Masks that look just like a real face, voice changers that sound just like whoever you’re pretending to be. So I was thinking—_

_Don’t tell me._

_Dude. It’s gotta be, right? The face? It makes sense._

_None of this makes sense. But yeah. I get you._

_But why would he? It’s not like anyone else has seen him, as far as I know._

_You’re so sure it’s him? Think about it. Dunn was— wrong. Not his work. I think somebody wanted to make it look like his, but somebody who doesn’t know him. Doesn’t know the kind of shit he leaves behind, I mean. Someone who doesn’t know what happened to his face._

_Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. If it’s not him, then who is it? And he’s supposed to be dead, so why pretend to be him? I don’t get it._

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_I saw him again. Fuck. Fuck, man, he was right there, and Dave— Jesus. Oh my god._

_Let me guess. He winked and laid his finger aside his nose like fucking Santa Claus._

_Listen, man. Listen. I got a call from Dave’s red line, about a rush job— it was when you were out doing that thing in Portland, remember— and he just said meet me at this old apartment. I think it must’ve been one of the old agency safe houses. And he was there._

_Dave?_

_No. You know, him. Big and scary. And he was talking, and Dave was listening, and Dave was fucking scared, man. Walker said “I know what you’re doing,” and then— fuck. He fucking killed Dave, stabbed him right in the neck, and—_

_Hey. Hey. Slow down._

_He saw me. He saw me, and I ran, and I don’t think he followed me, but I’m scared. I’m so scared. I don’t know what to do._

_Okay. Okay. Here’s what you do. You go to headquarters first thing. You tell them everything. Don’t leave until they agree to send you somewhere safe._

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

_Hey. Hey, man. I don’t have much time. He’s outside, fuck, he’s looking at me. I went to headquarters, they didn’t believe me. So I went to our old fishing place. I just— Dave wanted people to know, man. People besides us. I don’t know why he thought killing anyone would help. But Dave never saw Walker's work. Not like we did._

_So he—_

_Yeah. Yeah I think so. And— they’re all dead, man. Everyone who was there for the Kashmir fuckup. Even Hunt. I saw his head, man. His head, and— his face. It was half gone, I— oh fuck. Oh fuck. He’s coming. I’m so scared, I don’t know what to— fuck, wait, no, please. Please, I don’t want—_

_~*~*~*~*~*~_

_[your call cannot be completed as dialed. please hang up and try again]_


End file.
